The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 7 - Washington DC

The story so far...

Simone is woken up by the stern Lady Alva, right back where she started, in the black and white cave. She joins more than a dozen girls who are told they must serve the mysterious Goddess BastBula before they can leave. 

She's trapped for 13 moons with Joli, that awful pale girl (named Alexia), and a crying Nada. To add insult to injury, they shave her head, and drug her. Simone takes the vow, and is forced off a cliff into an underground lake to pass an undefined test. She spots Nada drowning and tries to save her. The last thing she sees as she blacks out is Joli.

Well that was dramatic! 
Just as Simone thought this couldn't get any worse than her usual new school experiences.
Will she drown or somehow pass the test?
And where do you think she'll end up?
Dead? Back home? Or somewhere else entirely?

Let's find out. But first it seems the plot thickens...

____________________________________________________________

The same leering moon that officiated over proceedings in Newgrange leeched the delicate pink blush from the cherry blossom trees in Washington. It left them as pale and cold as the tall Ionic pillars guarding the White House. The long butter fingers of the moon ignored those sentries, twitching the drapes of an upper window just in time to catch a wisp of chocolate brown disappearing into a cupboard.

Several First Ladies had tried to do away with it, labelling it a monstrosity but somehow it never seemed to make the cut. More pressing design issues would always distract the naysayer. Definitely an antique, it was hard to place the cupboard's origin. Hundreds of tiny medicine drawers running along its edges gave it an oriental feel. Each had an ornate bronze, triple spiral handle that mirrored the large central one bisecting the heavy double doors.

Two dozen of the little drawers were open. Haphazard, like someone was searching for something and wasn't sure which drawer to find it in. As the cupboard doors swung shut on their heavy oiled hinges, the drawers started to close, as if an invisible presence pressed on the keys of a strange wooden organ.

Behind the cupboard doors, Elizabeth moved at a fast clip down a narrow tunnel. In her left hand she held a a paidirean, a string of multi-coloured sparkling stones, weighted with a spiral. As her fingers flicked from one bead to the next, she murmured a prayer and as she did so, the labyrinth walls shifted around her. Within moments, Elizabeth was seated in her cosy private office deep underground, pulling her long curls back into a ponytail.

She ran her fingers across a compact screen in front of her, causing monitors running across an entire wall to flicker to life. Curious faces looked down on her. Some were sleepy and stern, some glamourously made up as if they had just stepped away from a red carpet event, which many of them had.

"Lady Kjallman," said one of the former presidents of Switzerland. "What is of such import that the entire Council of Women World Leaders is summoned? And at such short notice."

"Indeed," said another princess. "You've even assembled the Matriarchal Monarchy."

"Blessings upon you, Sisters," nodded Elizabeth. Here she could greet them in Sanctuary terms which made things a lot easier than the usual 'Ma'am' and 'Your Royal Highness'. She had recruited and installed every single one of them to their positions of power. Excepting for some of the queens; those lineages had been managed by the Sanctuary long before Elizabeth's time. "We are in auspicious times."

"Yes. The annual supermoon is out in full force. That is no surprise. It doesn't explain why are we here," said a leader from central Africa.

Elizabeth understood her impatience. A coup was underway in her country and she'd probably be deposed by dawn, if not beheaded.

"The girl has been summoned. Our end goal is in sight. Five, seven years at most."

"You mean your daughter?" said the newly elected President Gardner. "Isn't it too soon?" She paused. Elizabeth was sure she wanted to mention more, like the fact that despite seducing the correct man, Elizabeth had produced the daughter she was ordered to several years too soon. And that the man in question was still in robust good health, again, against orders to the contrary. Gossip spread like treacle in secret societies, getting into all the cracks and sticking for ages.

"I thought so too but she has been called to the service of BastBula. Even as we meet she is taking her vows at the Sanctuary. Commence the next stage of Operation Dragon. I expect all of you to start flexing. The power of BastBula must be complete."

The screens flickered out like fireflies at the approach of dawn as the leaders left to do the bidding of the Diplomat. Only Elizabeth remained, staring at the dead black screens on the wall.

"Perhaps it's time to pay a visit to the Sanctuary. No point in leaving everything to the Principal."

Elizabeth stood up, paidirean in hand, and strode to the labyrinth entrance. This time, she fingered the beads counterclockwise, using an alternate prayer. The walls shifted, rearranging themselves in a different spiralling route. The Diplomat strode through the labyrinth, from this world to the next.

____________________________________________________________________

A/N: What now?
Well, it would be grand if you let me know what you think. The lovely folks at Wattpad HQ have made it easy to do that:
a) If you like it vote by clicking on the star
b) If you want to express outrage, condemn a character's loathsome actions or squeal in delight you can get straight to the source (ah, me, guilty as charged) by typing a comment. 
c) Found a typo, stray comma, or other nasty gremlin marring your experience? Let me know, please :-).
And above all, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed creating it!